


Stay the Night

by Afixxia



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Book 2, Comfort, F/F, LGBT characters, M/M, Mild Spoilers, Other, more anxiety than hurt, non-binary characters, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24795370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afixxia/pseuds/Afixxia
Summary: The encounter with the supernaturals from the carnival was enough to make sleep a far-off hope. Having a vampire watching over things for a while might make things a little easier.
Relationships: Detective/Adam du Mortain, Detective/Morgan (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Farah Hauville, Male Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Kudos: 22





	1. Nate

"Good night."

The fingers that catch lightly at the cuff of his sleeve catch him off-guard as he makes to depart, and Nate turns to look at the detective in surprise. November looks just as shocked as he does, eyes wide as though he hadn't anticipated his own boldness. He gapes at him for a few moments, and Nate offers an encouraging smile as he waits patiently for whatever had brought him to draw his attention.

"Will you stay with me?" November's eyes actually meet his as he manages to mumble the words, just for a second before they dart back to his ear. "'Til I fall asleep?"

Nate can feel the anxiety rolling off of the detective in waves, should have expected that he would be nervous about going to sleep in an apartment that's just been invaded by semi-hostile supernaturals. Again. He turns to face him fully, catches November's fingers gently in his, and his smile widens at the shiver he poorly attempts to suppress.

"Anything you need, November."

Tired grey eyes flick to his once more, and a sigh of relief passes pierced lips, November granting him a brief, strained smile as he turns to open the door.

The lamp is on its side next to one of the tables, but other than that there's no sign of the ambush that occurred only hours before. Nate carefully picks it up once they've both shucked off their shoes, returns it to its rightful place beside yet another fragile-looking dragon figurine he's pretty sure is new. Nearby, the detective retrieves the rabbit he'd won at the carnival from where it had been discarded on the sofa, hugging it to his chest for a few moments before stooping down to pick up the thick blanket that usually found its home on the arm of the seat. He tucks the crumpled fabric under his arm, reaching to pull at the hairband holding back his deep red hair with a small sigh as he shuffles into his bedroom, where the blanket is promptly dropped into the hamper. It smells clean, and Nate has to bite his lip to keep from reminding him that the disease isn't contagious as November plops the toy on his bed to join the rather intimidating pile of fellow stuffed creatures and disappears into the bathroom, the door softly clicking closed behind him. He already knows that, and he wonders idly if it's the fact that it was however briefly in contact with the _reporter_ that has caused him to deem it tainted.

Nate has only been in this room very briefly all those months ago, and he now allows himself the indulgence of looking around properly while the detective gets ready for bed. He smiles at the small army of stuffed things piled up against the headboard, casts a glance out the window to at least pretend his main reason for staying is to watch out for threats before he closes the curtains against the early morning light. As he turns back to face the room, he catches a glimpse of a photo frame on the bedside table and pauses, eyes darting up to stare at the closed bathroom door for a moment before he relents to his curiosity and picks it up.

The photo is of a man with thick black hair and an equally thick black beard, a large smile on his face as he kissed the cheek of a redheaded toddler cradled snuggly in his arms, the child's face alight in a delighted laugh. Nate smiles sadly at the image, recalling the obvious pain they'd sensed from the detective when they'd spoken of his father. He can count on one hand the number of times November has laughed since they'd met, each one guarded and quickly stifled. Tonight at the carnival was the most open he'd allowed himself to be, but he remains optimistic, focusing on how that just showed he was opening up to him more. Nate gently puts the photo back as the bathroom door opens and November meanders inside, eyes seemingly closed already in his exhaustion, jaw cracking on a wide yawn he tries to hide behind his hand. He's dressed in button-up pyjamas with tiny dragons on them; all skin covered but seemingly smaller than usual without the oversized layers he usually hides away in. He stumbles to the edge of the bed and pauses for a moment before burrowing under blankets and toys with practised ease, head poking out from under the duvet a few seconds later. Nate is silently impressed that the pile of stuffed animals remained mostly undisturbed even in his exhausted state, but he has to wonder if the detective has forgotten that he's even there. 

That question is answered for him as the detective mumbles something that between the heavy sleep slurring and the strong Scottish accent even he can't make out, hand lightly thumping against the bed beside him in what appears to be an invitation. Nate watches him with an amused smile for a few moments before November cracks his eyes open enough to glare at him for not moving yet. The taller man bites back a gentle laugh as he slips off his jacket, draping it carefully over the back of the chair in the corner before making his way back to the bed. November manages a small, shy smile as he lays down on top of the duvet, quickly hiding it behind his hand. But Nate can hear the way his heartbeat speeds up, and pretends not to notice as the detective shuffles a little closer, face flushing. 

They both know he'll have to be back at the Warehouse before he wakes up (Adam is probably already pitching a fit wondering why he hasn't returned yet). But for now, as November finally slips into the warm caress of sleep, and he tenderly reaches to brush a long strand of hair behind his ear, he can't bring himself to care.


	2. Adam

"You should rest, and I should get back." 

Adam's mouth is dry as he speaks the words, his focus on keeping his hands occupied as they long to reach out once more.

"Right." It's impossible to miss the disappointment in that one word, the way Mel's shoulders seem to sag. This is for the best. They can just go their separate ways.

Neither he nor the detective moves from their places in the corridor outside the apartment.

_Right._

"Adam." Their voice stops him as he turns to leave, shoulders tensing as he tries to resist the urge to turn back and face them. In the end, he gives in - he _always_ gives in, even if only momentarily - to find them frowning. There's a vulnerability to them he didn't expect (one he's already seen far too much of this evening) and the physical pain in his chest as he has to hold himself back from reaching out to them sends him reeling. "Will you stay? For a little while?" By the tension in their own body, he can see how difficult it is for them to ask it of him, their lips pursing as though annoyed with themself. "You can leave once I've gone to sleep if you want, I just-"

"It's my duty to keep you safe." The words sound rehearsed, and for how often they run through his head in an attempt to drown out the _other_ thoughts they might as well be. "I will stay and ensure you aren't in any further danger tonight."

Mel smiles at him then, bright and cheerful, and it's enough to push back the voice in his head yelling at him to stop taking these indulgences, there's little to no chance of the supernaturals coming back again tonight and no need to stay. He can't help but soften slightly regardless, offering a small smile in return along with a nod as the detective turns to unlock their door. 

They scowl as they go inside, glaring at the broken coffee table as Adam enters behind them, closing the door as he does so. It's easy to see there's been a fight in here, though the apartment has survived much better than it did against the thralls earlier in the year. He makes a mental note to see about getting the table replaced, but the quiet jingle of dog tags cuts off that thought process, and he looks to Mel automatically to see them pulling their shirt over their head as they make their way towards the bedroom, their leather jacket already draped over the back of the nearby sofa. They grumble something in Spanish that would probably make Nate frown, their fingers tugging at the hem of their binder as if it pains them. He averts his gaze quickly, making to move over to the window.

"You're going to stay out here?" Adam turns to look at Mel to see them staring at him with an eyebrow raised. Not to be outdone, he stares right back at them.

"Yes."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

"I'm more than capable of protecting you from in here."

"But I'll feel much safer with you in there." The amused smirk which hugs their lips as they step into their bedroom tells him it's not their safety they're thinking of, but he lets out a long groan regardless.

"Fine." The smirk widens, and they back up to give him space as he reaches the doorway, perching on the edge of their bed as they watch him with eager eyes. "Go and get ready for bed. I'll keep watch."

Mel rolls their eyes dramatically before doing as they're told for what might just be the first time since they've met, a move so shocking that he stares at them as they walk away towards the bathroom. Unaware or uncaring of his eyes on them, they pull the colourful binder off over their head with a relieved moan, and he splutters, turning quickly to the window as his cheeks burn, and he desperately hopes his flush is gone by the time they return. The door clicks closed behind them. Mel had always been casual around their apartment, apparently unbothered about being spotted by any of the four of them in their underwear during the time they had been staying. He should have been expecting their lack of personal boundaries by now.

Adam is still internally berating himself, staring expressionlessly out the window, when Mel returns. It's a long moment before he dares turn to face them, but they're clothed this time - or at least, more so than before - dressed in a half-buttoned shirt over a pair of boxers. They tilt their head at him as he watches them.

"Are you planning on just standing there all night, Dracula?" They ask him with a teasing grin. "That's not creepy at all..."

He has to grit his teeth to hold back yet another groan, knowing the sound would only prompt amusement on their part. Then again, so would most other responses he might give. 

"Well you insisted I keep watch from here, so what would you recommend?"

"There's plenty of room in the bed for two."

He can't hold back the groan this time, head tilting back at the force of it. He was just as annoyed at himself this time, as he honestly should have expected such a quip.

The hand on his chest catches him off-guard from his thoughts, and his green eyes shoot up to meet Mel's dark brown pair as they step into his personal space. Adam has never felt insecure about their height difference before, but now the two inches between them feels much greater as they examine his face, all traces of their usual playful demeanour gone. His heart races beneath their hand despite his best efforts. He feels like they're staring into his very soul, seeking something he can't name.

Backed against the wall, trying desperately to keep his breathing under control and his expression clear, Adam feels his heart twist in longing. Desire wars within him, and he's not sure if he needs them to lean forward and _finally_ close the distance between them, or to back away completely. He could push them away himself, of course, but the fog over his mind makes his limbs feel like lead.

"Imelda..." the word falls unbidden from his lips as their dark eyes search his own so intently. Maybe they find what they're looking for, and maybe they don't. Either way, their expression changes, an emotion he refuses to acknowledge as deep longing crossing their features. They pull away slowly, as if it physically hurts them to do so, and relief and regret mingle painfully in his chest. He regains control over his arms just in time to keep himself from reaching out after them.

Mel mumbles an apology as they go to climb into bed, still uncharacteristically reserved.

"Thank you for staying with me," they tell him. "You can leave as soon as I fall asleep, I didn't mean to keep you here so long." 

Adam goes over to the window to stare outside, trying to pretend his entire focus isn't revolving around Mel behind him as they slowly slip off to sleep. 

He doesn't have any reason to be here anymore. No good one, anyway.

They'd given him their consent to leave as soon as they were asleep, and there's no way he's going to allow himself to be here when they awaken, and yet his feet refuse to move.

Forcing himself to believe it's only Imelda's safety that he has in mind, Adam fixes a stern glare out the window as he listens to their steady heartbeat and breathing, and tells himself he'll only keep watch for a little longer.


	3. Farah

"We should really see about that 'us' at some point."

Despite the flirtatious words, Farah's golden eyes rove over Abigail in concern as the other woman lingers by her door, fiddling with her headscarf (yellow today, with sequins arranged in flower patterns, and Farah loved the way it had shimmered around Abby in the lights of the carnival). The detective had only been half-attentive to their flirtations since the incident in her apartment, and while Farah would under other circumstances think she just needed to get inside and sleep it off, there's an uncharacteristic aura of anxiety around the usually bubbly woman this evening that makes her hesitate to say goodbye.

"Are you gonna be okay?" She asks her with a small frown. The question seems to shake Abigail out of her anxious reverie, and wide hazel eyes fix on her. 

"I ... I don't know," she mumbles with a small frown. "I think I'll be fine, but I could do with some company for a bit?"

"Well if it's cheering up you're after, you came to the right person!" 

Abby grinned in response to her eagerness and turned to open the door.

"I think you're the right person for a lot of things." Farah flushes at the words, her legs having to carry her in after her automatically because her brain isn't working on ordering them.

"I want to help distract you, but I also still think you need to get to sleep..." Farah tails off, genuinely torn, and Abby turns to her thoughtfully. 

"One round of Mario Kart and I'll go to bed," she compromises. "I'll even put my pyjamas on first - then you can carry me to bed if I fall asleep."

"I can do that," Farah smirks, and Abby beams at her before spinning around to skip into her bedroom to get dressed, the vampire left a little confused as she disappears behind closed doors. She wonders if her presence alone was somehow enough to make the detective feel better, or if she was just that good at hiding her true feelings. And _what_ was a Mario Kart?

The last of those questions, at least, is answered with Abby's return a few minutes later. However, Farah should've known this game would last longer than the promised round when it takes her half an hour to go through each character and choose the one she wants to play, before even getting onto what vehicle combination she wants. Abby waits patiently despite having gone to select King Boo as soon as the character selection had come up.

One match later and Farah is only just getting the hang of the controls. 

"We _have_ to get Adam to play this game," she insists loudly as she spams the button to find a new circuit. 

Abby shrugs, nervously glancing at the door as her volume increases but not saying anything yet.

"You'll have to ask November; it's his Switch, I'm just borrowing it." 

"I'll just tell him how great it'll be watching Adam lose," the vampire laughs, undeterred. 

There were another ten matches before the low level of charge in one of the joycons tells them it's time to put an end to the gaming session.

By this time their sides are hurting from laughing so hard, and Abby keeps rubbing at her cheeks to rid them of the ache from smiling so wide for so long as she puts the game system away to charge before November can forever banish the two of them from using it.

"I suppose you have to go to bed now," Farah pouts as she watches her. They so rarely get the time to spend together just the two of them, just having fun without worrying about the stress of missions. Even the time they'd had together at the carnival had been tainted by what had come after. Abby seems so much more at ease now, and Farah feels her heart warm in relief. 

"I'm too excited to go to sleep now," Abby tells her teasingly, and Farah can hear Adam and Nate's disapproval already. "But if you want to stick around a little longer I have a few ideas for things we can do."

"Like what?" She tries to sound smooth even though she's as nervous as she is excited, trying to keep her eyes from darting to the bedroom door.

Abby gives her a wide smile that makes her heart speed in anticipation in her chest. 

"The first Twilight movie is out on Netflix at the moment."

The unexpected nature of the suggestion catches Farah off-guard, and it takes her a moment to have a quip ready. 

"Really, Detective? The others will be so disappointed when they find out about this," she commented, her beaming smile and the brightness in her golden eyes betraying her teasing.

"Well, if you don't want to watch it with me..."

Farah's eyes widen, and she throws herself into the brown leather sofa so hard it almost tips over with her, sprawling herself out over the seat so as not to give the human reason to make good on the unspoken threat.

"Now now Abby, you know it won't be nearly as fun without me." She rakes her eyes over Abigail's figure, biting her lip playfully. "And I'd never miss out on a chance to spend more time with you."

Abby laughs and flumps down on the sofa beside her, shuffling close enough that the two of them are touching as she sets up the movie to watch.

For the next hour Farah finds she barely pays any attention to the movie, distracted entirely by the woman curled up against her side, dark eyes alight with laughter in the glow of the TV screen. 

Eventually Abigail's head slumps against her shoulder and Farah freezes, willing herself to stay still so as not to wake her. Remembering Abby's joking comment about carrying her to bed, she carefully adjusts the human to be more securely in her arms, tucking her head against her neck.

She finds herself thankful for Abby's height - actually an inch shorter than Farah's 5 foot 4 - as she carefully stands, wobbling her way over to the bedroom.

Abby sleeps through the slow, awkward stumble to the door. Somehow she also sleeps through Farah accidentally bumping her ankle against the door frame. 

It's as Farah is lowering her to the bed, painstakingly slowly so as not to disturb her, tongue between her teeth in concentration, that the detective opens her eyes. 

"Did you _really_ just wait until I'd got you _all the way_ over here to wake up?"

"Of course! You're my knight in shining armour!" Abby laughs, wrapping her arms around Farah's shoulders to pull her down with her as she's dropped to the bed. 

Farah goes willingly, the room filling with laughter as she hits the bedsheets, and Abby presses herself close.

"You'll stay a little longer, right?" she asks her, and Farah grins in response.

"Can't bear to be without me?" she teases, and Abby's answering smile is genuine as she shakes her head, Farah swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat. "Well, I'm not going anywhere." The words come out as little more than a whisper as Abby leans forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

"And I hope you never do."

Farah is still riding the high from those words long after Abby has finally succumbed to the draw of sleep.


End file.
